


Raconteur

by HiddenEye



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Post-Season/Series 07, Very Minor Sheith, Video Cameras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 19:06:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15892212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenEye/pseuds/HiddenEye
Summary: “What are you doing?”“I just got this camcorder from a lucky draw from last night of our useless fire party, as you would call it,” her hologram self rolled her eyes. “With a buncha chips at the side, so I thought of operating it to good use.”





	Raconteur

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by [SAM_DONGDONG's](https://twitter.com/SAM_DONGDONG) tweet of this [art!](https://twitter.com/SAM_DONGDONG/status/1036301137014489090) I hope you’ll enjoy this!

_— n. a person skilled in telling stories._

 

If there was one thing Krolia had come peace with herself, it was to never see him again.

The years of silent indulgence, the quick burst of yearning, of when she wished and burned for the chance in having to touch him again crawls up behind her when she lets the quiet settle in the air and seep into her skin. It was when her commands dissipated down the long hallways of the enemy’s ship, her hand slowly lost its twitch to hold onto her blaster while she stared down the back of a sentry’s head.

It was letting the doors shut firmly until its anger echoed within the shell of her ears, secluding herself from any contact of this side of the war in body and in spirit, in mind and in heart.

At that time, she would let her eyes drop to the point of her feet, let her shoulders fall down from its rod-like alignment that she felt the weight clawing into the meat of her being in order to hold on. Only then, did she allowed herself the benefit of her own thoughts, of her own needs.

Only then, did she saw the crinkle at the corner of his eyes whenever he smiled. Only then, did she saw the twinkle in them as he laughed, loud and boisterous, so carefree and addicting that the memory of her kissing his cheek comes to mind as he laughed and laughed with his arms around her waist and his body flushed against hers.

It was having Keith, small and beautiful with wide curious eyes staring back at them as he cooed, hands raised above him while his fingers flexed for their touch, wisps of ink black hair curling behind his ear in lazy circles.

Krolia knew she wouldn’t have the chance of seeing Heath Kogane again after what she saw in the Quantum Abyss, after what memories of Keith’s showed her that Heath wouldn’t be alive to greet them home. He wouldn’t be looking into the piping underneath the sink and grumbling about its leaks for the umptenth time. He wouldn’t be sharpening his axe on the porch while he talked about his childhood, his dances with the fire every time he and his colleagues were to save lives.

She wouldn’t be able to listen to them again without wanting her heart to weep for what had been lost.

It took her a moment to blink away the fond look he wore whenever he looked up to watch her, and she found herself still sitting on the ground of the living room with a large box being left opened in front of her, the room alight with the glare of the LED rod above her head. When she blinked, it was to clear the film settling over her eyes, to notice how she was holding onto a picture of Heath grinning so widely that his eyes disappeared under his squint, a younger Keith hanging onto his arm as he laughed at the person behind the camera.

Krolia let her finger smooth down the side of Heath’s cheek, a lump rolling painfully in her throat. She gently set it beside her, where she was going to go through the contents of the box before she was pulled into the memory of her lover and her son.

It was small chips, with words written in Heath’s familiar writing that was enough to fit onto the side, labelling each one with its required contents. She ran her fingers across the top; there were many of them, every one of them almost filled to the edge of the box, as if Heath had filmed the moments of his life and put them in these for him to watch later.

She knew these chips, had seen one of them at least once before she left.

Why were they buried deep underneath the sofa?

Letting her hand sail to the far corner of the left, she picked out one chip and turned it around, only to have her breath robbed out of her at what was scribbled on the white sticker.

_Krolia._

She knew this was what her name looked like in their language, she knew because Heath showed her how to write her name in human tongue the first month she overstayed her welcome. They were no longer wary of each other then — maybe she even considered him as a friend at that time, but Heath was still adamant in helping her despite her being well and healed, insisting her to stay. By then, she was comfortable enough to ask him to teach her his ways. He picked up a pen and a paper, before starting with her name.

She ran her thumb across it, before snapping her head up to look for the device that would show her to him, to what they had.

Standing up, she stalked towards the shelves and dug through dusted belongings Keith didn’t bother to throw away, and let out a sharp breath the moment her hand clamped around it.

She pulled it off the shelf and dragged her hands over surface to find the place to put the chip in, and when she did, she quickly pushed it in that a hologram immediately blasted above the machine.

“What are you doing?”

Staring with wide eyes, Krolia saw herself sitting on the edge of the bed, a hand on the large bump of her stomach while she bend over the bedside cabinet. Faintly, she remembered trying to look for a book he introduced months before, one of Jeffrey Archer’s best novels that had her hooked the first few chapters. _If you wanna know about human beings and how good or bad they can be_ , she remembered him saying, _this man’s books would be just for you._

“Filmin’,” Heath answered from his place at the doorway. Krolia leaned against the shelf, breathing a little heavier than she wanted as she covered her mouth with a hand. “I just got this camcorder from a lucky draw from last night of our useless fire party, as you would call it,” her hologram self rolled her eyes. “With a buncha chips at the side, so I thought of operating it to good use.”

“Really,” she would say, straightening up her spine with a wince, the book clutched in one hand while the other still cupped over her stomach, and she used her foot to close the cabinet door with a light kick. “And you decided to use it on me?”

“Well, there ain’t anythin’ more exciting than you, so yes,” the camcorder moved then, nearer to where she sat as Heath made himself comfortable beside her, adjusting his hold onto it so that it wouldn’t move so much. The screen was now consisted only of Krolia, with the rich brown of the bed frame behind her. “And I need you to say something for me.”

She arched her eyebrows. “What am I supposed to say?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yeah, like, what’s your name, what are you doin’, what do you think of doin’ after this, and so on and so forth.”

Krolia watched herself focusing on the camera than at the man behind it, and the smile on her face was mostly because she was amused at what he was doing rather than for the audience itself. “Hello, my name is Krolia. I’m a Galra,” at the pinched corner of her mouth, she couldn’t help but see the uncanny resemblance it had whenever Keith did it. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say.”

“That can’t be all,” Heath said in response.

She crossed her arms above her stomach. “That is all.”

“Tell em’ what you’re doing.”

“I was about to read until this man,” she smiled knowingly then, and it was filled with such unexpected normalcy and love that Krolia felt her heart clench tightly. “disturbed my peace.”

“I wanted to spend some time with the beautiful mother of my unborn child,” that was an exaggerated sniff, and her smile widened the slightest bit as the camera moved with how he made a point to wipe a fake tear. “But, that’s not happening, huh?”

“No, unfortunately not. I need to lie down.”

“Oh, okay,” the camera straightened itself again to get a headshot of her. “Say goodbye to the audience first.”

She rolled her eyes, but did a little wave with a smile on her face before Heath chuckled, and the clip ended when the hologram was sucked into the player again.

Krolia felt the echo of his voice ringing continuously in her ears and dragged across her skin as she stared blankly at the video player, her conscious soaking up every little detail of this man, of what she hadn’t seen for more than twenty years, that it wasn’t until she realised for a heart stopping moment she had forgotten how he sounded like.

She hadn’t forgotten how he laughed, no, but she had forgotten the little quirks he liked to do whenever he spoke. It was hearing his accent, slightly different than the other humans whenever he was talking to them over his phone, speakers on for her to hear how his friends sounded like, how the leader of his organisation sounded like. It was hearing his little snort, the mischief in his tone whenever he spoke.

In those years of how she kept the memory of him with her, his existence was slowly leaving her life without her knowing, and it started with his voice even if she still remembered his face, his smile, the shape of his mouth whenever he shared his amusement.

She couldn’t feel herself breathe.

She hauled the video player to the makeshift coffee table along with its box, a new wave of determination taking over her actions as she set everything up in its place as she took out another chip from the box and replaced the earlier one with it.

“Heya, Keith.”

It was almost as if she was sucking in a new life the moment he began to speak.

It was night, and the lamps were switched on from both sides of the bed, the warm glow rested softly on herself from where she sat, illuminating the way she had her head bowed over. Keith had his eyes closed, his tiny body wrapped up in a blanket with a white hat to cover his head while his face still shone a pretty pink. It was normal for newborns to be the way he was, Heath once told her, and the baby in her arms then slept soundly as she stared at him with wonder in her eyes.

Krolia remembered how full her heart had been when Heath passed a wailing Keith to her. She remembered she had cried silent tears while she held the baby so close to her chest, mindful of her touch, not even caring how tainted her clothes were of her own blood or how loud Keith continued sobbing next to her ear.

All she knew she was grateful, eternally so.

“Heya, Keith. S’your Ma holding you, and your Pa here,” Heath said quietly, zooming closer to Keith’s sleeping face from where Krolia was leaning against the bed frame. In the hologram, Keith looked content in where he was, sleeping the night away. “You came out a lil’ early than most babies, but we’re very glad to see you.”

When the camera focused out, Krolia saw herself reaching out to brush the back of her fingers against those soft cheeks, attention focused only on Keith and how he fit so perfectly in her hold.

“Hello, Keith.” She heard herself whisper, and then she was leaning down to press a kiss onto his forehead. She looked up towards Heath with a large smile on her face. “He smells so nice.”

“Baby smell,” he agreed. “Can I hold him?”

“Of course,” she breathed, and the camcorder was already set on the mattress, where it focused on the pillows instead. “He’s your son too.”

“I’m glad,” he chuckled softly, with the sound of shuffling came from the background. There was a pause, as if Heath was marvelling the child in his arms like she did. “Hey there.”

The camcorder was picked up again, this time by Krolia herself, and she filmed the way Heath was carrying Keith to his chest, grinning widely. Keith looked even smaller in his hold, and Heath leaned down to press a kiss of his own onto Keith’s cheek. “I love the smell of babies.”

Krolia let her eyes soak in the sight of him even if the poor light made it slightly difficult to see, but it was enough, it was enough for her to pick out the small scar slashing down his right brow and the dip of his twin dimples. It was enough for her to see the deep colour of his eyes, the way they gleaned from the same overwhelming emotions surging through both of them with reckless care. She managed to have a look of him again, and she had to lean back to in order to stay upright.

When she reached up, the corner of her eyes were wet with tears.

He was gentle in how he handled Keith, in all the clips that came after that as both of them switched among themselves in recording their times with their only baby, right until it ended with Heath tentatively used Keith’s hand to wave at the camera, a full blown grin apparent from where they sat on the rocking chair outside.

She didn’t realised what the chip was called until she pulled it out.

 _Krolia and Keith,_ stared back at her unwaveringly.

Another one was labelled as, _Keith’s first word!_ with two strokes underlined the last part of the sentence. The first scene that popped up the moment she put it on was Heath leaning back after setting up the camcorder, holding onto Keith in such that he was facing it too. Both of them were at the dining table, a small bowl of half filled baby food at the corner of the scene, and Heath was smiling so widely while Keith babbled incohorensively at the plastic spoon he was gripping onto.

“Okay, okay. Keith,” Heath plucked a handkerchief from the side to wipe the splatter of orange mash off Keith’s cheek. “Keith, what didya say just now? Can you say it again?”

Keith turned away from the touch with a sound of protest, his spoon hitting against the cloth. Heath chuckled. “Aw, come on, Keith. Do you wanna tell her what you said just now?”

Keith was still refusing Heath’s fussing, shaking his head. “Ma ma ma ma.”

Heath snapped his gaze up to the camera, his happiness so contagious that Krolia was covering her mouth again, smiling at the same time he was. “You said Mama, Keith?” He looked down to where Keith began gnawing on the spoon, two tiny teeth poking out from the bottom row of his gums. “Did you say Mama? Can you tell your mum that again?”

When he slowly tugged the spoon away from his mouth, Keith let out another distressed noise, batting his hand away. “Ma ma!”

He began squirming in one place, and Heath secured his hold around Keith tightly, letting him bite onto the plastic spoon again. “Hey, honey,” his grin popped up again. “I tried feedin’ Keith some mashed carrots and porridge, but as you can see,”

He lifted the bowl and showed her its contents, hardly touched than a few spoonfuls. “Not much success. But, he did like the spinach I gave him yesterday, he finished that one up pretty quickly.”

“Oh, did you know he likes rockets?” He continued, setting aside the bowl again. “We were passing by this toy shop and they were celebrating the first time humankind went to the moon; y’know, those Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin bobbleheads that you find so funny. Apparently, Keith liked em’ movin’ around too. And, uh,” he looked rather sheepish then. “I bought a set of em’ for the kitchen, since it keeps Keith quiet whenever I gotta cook him a meal or do the laundry.”

Heath and Keith stood out of view for a moment to bring back two bobblehead astronauts, jinggling when he set it down on the table. True to his word, Keith was suddenly entranced by the figurines in front of him and reached forward to touch them, spoon in his hand forgotten momentarily.

“I dunno why both of you like these lil’ things,” Heath laughed, watching the way Keith smacked them off their feet. “They’re hideous. Look at their creepy smiles, Jesus Christ.”

Heath picked up Neil Armstrong to shook it in front of the camcorder, and Krolia had to smother her laughter with her fingers as she watched Keith’s attention pulled to the figurine Heath had in his hand, babbling as he wanted to make a grab for it.

“Oh, yeah, he has teeth now,” Heath took the spoon from Keith while he was distracted, who was excitingly smacking their faces while his father quickly fed him before he could notice. “And he can bite. Teething must’ve suck, poor boy. Can’t keep his mouth from clamping onto everything, and the teething toys I bought ain’t doin’ their job since they keep breaking apart,” he looked into the camcorder, as if she was really there. “I think he has fangs now, like you have. Only, he can retract them.”

It went on as she kept changing the chips; there was Keith’s first art piece being tacked on the fridge, Keith’s first time riding the bike, Keith’s first day of school, Keith’s first dollar from the tooth fairy. Some were just days when both father and son would just lay down together and talk about mundane things while Keith draws on their bed, sometimes they would attempt in making an Earth dessert until they were covered with one of those white ingredients. They had fun together, even if there were times when Heath expressed his alarm every time Keith did something that made his heart rate escalate, such as climbing the only tree they had outside.

And everytime Heath began the video, the first thing Krolia would see was Keith; doing either one of those things, or he would wait beside his father as both of them switched the camera to their view.

“Hey, Mum!” Was the first thing Keith would say.

The last chip of them together was when they were celebrating Keith’s nineth birthday at Heath’s workspace; the fire station was decorated with party strings and balloons and there were people with their own children talking and laughing and running around. It was obvious Heath was holding onto the camcorder again, filming Keith blindfolded with a bat clutched in his hand, a peculiar looking animal hanging above him. It was colourful, and it was tied to one of the pipes while Keith hit it rather ferociously while other kids cheered him on.

Krolia felt her brows arch up in curiosity.

“Oh, you’re probably wondering what he’s doing,” Heath said, changing the view to front camera that she was able to see him again. He had more wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, silently laughing while everything else continued seamlessly at the background. “It’s a piñata, and he’s hittin’ it until candy comes out so that the kids can eat the candy.” There was a loud _whack_ , and then, there was crying. Heath winced. “Oh, oh no. Keith, what happened—“

Turned out Keith accidentally hit one of the children. They were well, though, and Keith managed to blow out his rocket shaped cake with a large smile, the gap in his front teeth apparent, before their guests gave him his presents that varied in size.

It ended with Keith switching the camera again, with both he and Heath waving at her with twin grins on their faces. “Bye, Mum!”

Krolia was left staring at the only chip left.

This chip wasn’t labelled. It didn’t have the white stickers Heath usually put, and it seemed slightly newer than the rest. What was even more odd was how it remained inside the camcorder itself instead of kept properly like the rest of its brothers.

Krolia turned it over her fingers, and slipped into its required place until the sight of Keith flickered on.

He was much older than the bouncing boy she had only seen merely minutes ago, donned in a red jacket with worn fingerless gloves, and he was leaning back onto the old sofa behind him after switching the camcorder on. When he lifted his head, there was a deep sorrow that etched onto his expression, with shadows hanging heavily underneath his eyes while his too pale skin looked almost sickly underneath the white light of the hologram.

A thin needle pushed slowly into her heart, restricting her breathing.

Keith stared back at her with equal pain, where he opened his mouth to say something before he shut it back with a click of his teeth. He let out a short, brutal laugh that shook her to her bones, tangling his fingers together as he ducked his head.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He muttered, lifting his gaze again. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip, contemplating, and reached out.

“Keith, no—“

The hologram disappeared, leaving her hand suspended in mid-air.

The next scene was Keith again, only he looked well rested than the last, wearing the same red and yellow jacket with the sun glowing at the side of his face, causing the sharp edge of his jaw and the shine of his eyes to stand out.

“Unfortunately,” he began. “I wasn’t able to stay in one place without wanting to pick a fight with everyone that crossed my path, and that my former therapist was right when she said that my anger was a field, and I should take care of it properly.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Hilariously, I lit up my field at a moment of stupid thinking, and now everything’s burnt, gone. Can’t even replant anything else.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, heaving out a sigh. “I can’t believe I’m talking analogically,” he muttered.

He paused, dragging his hand down his face before he cupped his cheek with it, staring emptily into somewhere beside her. “Anyway, I’m staying here now. I was cleaning up this place a few days ago when I found this thing along with some other unused chips,” he tapped the side of his head. “Decided I should give it a go, and here we are.”

He didn’t even mention his initial attempt. When he flickered his look to the camcorder, Krolia held her breath, watching him drop his hand on his thigh with a minute _slap_. “It’s not pilot error, Dad,” he whispered, voice threatening to waver. “I know it’s not pilot error, I can feel it. They’re not dead. But, the Garrison wouldn’t listen to me.”

If she could reach out and collect him in her arms, she would. If she could hold him tightly in her embrace and never let go, consoling both of their weeping hearts with her hand brushing over his hair, she would.

Until then, she resorted to watch him grieve.

“Pilot error wasn’t supposed to happen. Shiro was in perfect condition before he left, and he did every test we could think of to maintain that peek condition. Gossip said it was because of his health that they failed. But, I know better. I was there with him when he passed the test, and I know he wouldn’t compromise this mission for the sake of his own needs when he knew his own body. He’s a good man, and he knew what he was doing when he stepped into that ship.”

Keith straightened himself up from his place on the sofa, head raising to acknowledge the soft _ding_ of a machine somewhere in the background. And then, he stared into her again. “Mum,” he called out softly, and Krolia shut her eyes briefly. “I need you to find him for me. Wherever you are, please, help me. Shiro—”

There was a sharp inhale, and Krolia watched how he used his fingers to comb over his scalp, mind racing. “I need to repay my debt to him,” he said instead. “letting him go isn’t an option I’m willing to hold on to. I _know_ he’s out there.” The determination that flashed in those purple eyes reminded her of Heath; if Keith possessed half the stubbornness he had, then he would survive what will be in his way. “I’m going to look for the team. I’ve found something that can help, only it’s going to take time before I can find anything else that would lead me to another clue. For now,” his eyes softened then. “I’ll see you soon.”

Keith disappeared with the hologram, leaving Krolia to fall back to the white noises of the shack, only this time more excruciatingly painful than the last.

When she glanced at the windows, the first touches of dawn squeezed through drawn drapes, the pinks and purples touching the slope of her shoulders in greeting before the streak of a new day stretched across the coffee table carelessly. She could smell the morning air seeping through the nooks and cracks of the house, and when she drew back the curtains with a nudge of her fingers, the sun was already rising above the horizon.

Last night, she promised Keith she would rest while he stayed at the hospital. She didn’t expect her packing to last most of the night.

Glancing at the chips, she resolved to have some rest before going back to see him.

Four hours later, she had a duffel bag on her shoulder with a helmet in hand while she walked towards the familiar red hoverbike resting beside the shack, hidden underneath a blanket of canvas. When she pushed it away, she let her hands sail over the familiar numbers, sighing softly.

“Hello, old friend,” she murmured.

She jumped onto the seats and wore her helmet; slotted the keys into its place and pressed into a button. The machine underneath her spluttered for the first few moments, before she twisted the handles and it roared life into her veins.

When she flew it to the hospital, it was having Heath behind her again, the press of his arms around her waist with his forehead buried into her shoulder. She could feel him, she thought with a hollowed chest. She could feel him with her again.

When she arrived, Keith was already up, talking to Shiro from where he sat at his side in quiet tones, their postures relaxed and familiar with the presence of the other. She felt like she was intruding the soft tilt of Keith’s smile, the lowered lashes of Shiro’s eyes as he laughed softly at what they were conversing in.

Krolia realised then Keith had done what he vowed to do, what he fiercely believed in. It was apparent in the greys of Shiro’s gaze when he looked at Keith the same way Keith looked at him.

Almost listlessly, she took out the camcorder from the bag, switching it on and saw both Keith and Shiro on the screen.

She stepped out of the shadows, pulling their attention to her way as she smiled.

“Hello, Keith.”


End file.
